


Learning: One Step at a Time

by shame_less18



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Dad!Ian, Dad!Mickey, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Family, Family Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Math, Romance, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Reflection, Teaching, learning, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shame_less18/pseuds/shame_less18
Summary: In which Yevgeny needs help with his homework, and Mickey and Ian must come to the rescue. Being the dads that they are, of course they learn a little about themselves along the way.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Yevgeny Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich & Yevgeny MIlkovich
Comments: 1
Kudos: 92





	Learning: One Step at a Time

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by my own struggles in school. I used to be a very avid reader, but after awhile, I noticed that I wasn't able to comprehend much of what I was reading anymore. Enter the option to have audio for my textbooks and during my exams, and nothing has been the same since!  
> I've always hated the running joke that Mickey can't read, so this is my take on why everyone (including himself) seems to think that.  
> Sorry for the random change in tone halfway through, this was abandoned until about an hour ago.  
> I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to comment and leave kudos!

“Dads! Can you come help me please?” A shout came from the kitchen table. Ian and Mickey looked at each other momentarily before Mickey’s hand came flying up to touch the tip of his nose, Ian doing the same instantly. 

“Not it!” both men shouted. Unfortunately for Ian, Mickey found solace in his nose touch a millisecond sooner; and a sound similar to a cackle escaped Mickey’s throat as a smug look spread across his face. The redhead rolled his eyes, pulling himself off the couch to make his way into the kitchen to help Yevgeny with his homework. He made sure to flip his husband off over his shoulder on his way.

Mickey relaxed back into the couch, content that he had avoided that disaster. He hated helping Yev with his schoolwork, and he steered clear of it at every opportunity. As his eyes glued themselves back to whatever T.V. movie he and Ian had been watching, his hand found its way back into the popcorn bag on his lap. After what felt like too long, his attention was drawn away from the movie down to the satellite box on the T.V. stand. Almost a half hour had passed, and he hadn’t heard a peep from the kitchen. His eyes drifted toward where he knew his husband and son were probably elbow to elbow at the table, eyebrows furrowed as they looked over whatever assignment the young Milkovich had brought home. 

“Hey Mick! Could you come in here please?” Mickey rolled his eyes at this and couldn’t help but feel as though he jinxed himself by realizing how long Ian had been gone for. As he stood, he dropped the bag of popcorn onto the coffee table, feeling glad that he wasn’t very invested in the movie. He wiped his hands on his jeans as he entered the kitchen, noting immediately the look of frustration on his son’s face and the helpless expression Ian was making at him. Shit.  
“What’s up?” the dark-haired man asked, hoping that sounded as casual as he tried. His hand gripped Ian’s shoulder as he came up behind his chair, his other hand ruffling Yev’s hair.   
“It’s math, Mick. I can’t help him.” Ian looked ashamed as he made eye contact with Mickey over his own shoulder.   
“Fuck makes you think I can?” Mickey could feel his eyebrows climbing his forehead incredulously.   
“Told you, dad. Its hopeless.” Yev sounded on the verge of tears as he rubbed a hand down his face. Even after all these years, it still warmed Mickey’s heart to hear Yev call Ian ‘dad’, but now wasn’t the time to get sentimental.  
“Mick, please at least look at it?” Ian was pleading, and Mickey knew he couldn’t argue much after that.   
“Take a break, kid. Popcorn’s still in the living room.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, ruffling Yev’s black tresses again as the young Milkovich leapt from the table to make his escape.

He watched as his son exited the room and couldn’t help but feel a wave of emotion as he realized just how big Yev was. Thirteen years old. His oldest son was a young man now, and Mickey didn’t know how to feel about it. His eyes drifted to the stairs leading up to his younger children’s bedroom. A wave of relief washed over him as he reminded himself that his other kids were still small, small enough to already be fast asleep at nine o’clock p.m. He took Yev’s spot at the table, painfully aware of Ian’s gaze on the side of his face. 

“Okay, Gallagher. What’re we lookin’ at?” the resignation in his voice was far too obvious for his liking.  
“it’s beginner algebra. I should know it from when I was studying for West Point, but I just can’t get the solutions.” Ian sounded frustrated and upset with himself, and Mickey’s heart ached at the sound.  
“Alright, gingersnap, what makes ya think I can do it? I was basically dropped out already when we did this shit.”  
“Mick, look. He has his textbook, maybe we can work it out together and then teach him?” Ian’s eyes were wide when they met Mickey’s, and the older man knew he couldn’t say no.  
“Fine. Let me see the damn book.”

As his eyes scanned the pages, he became painfully aware that he was barely comprehending what he was looking at. Not the diagrams, the diagrams made perfect sense. It was the instructions that came along with the diagrams that weren’t making any sense. He felt himself slowly growing annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t wrap his brain around what he was reading.

It wasn’t that Mickey couldn’t read. He could read just fine. Word by word, he could read perfectly. It’s just that he always had issues comprehending paragraphs as wholes. It was like the sentences ran on and on, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around any of it. It was extremely frustrating. 

“Fuck, it’s like this isn’t made to be read.” He growled after a few minutes of trying to make sense of what was on the page.  
“Whaddya mean, Mick? I can understand it just fine. It’s the numbers and pictures that’re the problem.” Ian sounded so damn sure of himself just then that Mickey was tempted to punch him just for the attitude. But he didn’t.  
“The pictures and numbers are all that make sense, Gallagher.” Mickey argued back. It looked like a lightbulb flashed in Ian’s eyes, before he eagerly looked at Mickey. Then the hesitance set into the redhead’s irises.   
“What? Spit it out, man. I know you have some shit brewin’ in your mind.”

Ian’s eyes drifted back to the book before snapping up to meet Mickey’s. The redhead took an audible gulp and a deep breath, almost as if to find the courage to say what was on his mind. 

“What if-“ he hesitated “what if I read the instructions out loud to you, and then you follow them on a piece of paper with the equation?” Ian was biting his lip and looking so fucking hesitant, and Mickey couldn’t figure out if he wanted to be pissed that his husband thought he couldn’t read or if he wanted to give the idea a try just because Ian looked like a kicked puppy.  
“I can read just fine, Gallagher.” His tone was calm and measured.  
“O-oh no, Mick! That’s not what I meant! I know you can read perfectly well, its just that since I was way better at english than math, and you’ve always been good with numbers- agh! Never mind, it was stupid. I’m sorry.” Ian rambled so fast; Mickey couldn’t keep a small smile from splitting across his face. The truth was, Mickey could kind of see where Ian was coming from. Students get audio offered on exams all the time, now. Maybe if he had the same opportunity, he’d have done better in school while he was attending. He had to put a stop to Ian’s ‘I fucked up’ expression soon though, he didn’t want to get in shit by dragging it out too long.

“Relax man, I’m just messin’ with ya. Let’s try it.” And as much as Mickey is embarrassed by this whole scenario, the look of hope on Ian’s face makes it so worth it. Ian sets a notebook and one of Yev’s fancy erasable pens in front of him, before pulling the textbook into his lap to decide where he was going to start reading from. He looked up a minute or two later, saying “I’ll read the description of the section first, and then we’ll try the instructions on an example.” Mickey nodded, scratching his temple with the unclicked pen in his hand, before he leaned forward to listen to Ian read.  
“Slope intercept is a common way to represent a linear equation, written in the form of y=mx+b, where the letters are meant to be solved for. The x and y values represent coordinates on a line, m represents slope, also called the rate of change, and b represents the y-intercept, which is where the line crosses the y-axis.”

Mickey listened along, nodding as each concept Ian read wiggled its way into his mind. He could visualize the lines on the plane, he could see the equation in his head. He was partly baffled too, though, because he genuinely didn’t remember the textbook this way. He was almost skeptical that the book said it at all, but Ian was so enthralled in the reading that there was no way it wasn’t written in there somewhere.

As they worked out the example equation using the directions from the book, Mickey found himself picking up on the concepts quite easily with Ian’s reading to guide the way. They worked out example after example, being sure to check the back of the book for solutions each time to ensure that they were doing it correctly. After an hour of attempts and only slight frustration, the pair felt confident enough and they decided to try to teach it to Yevgeny.

“Ay, Yev, come back in here!” Mickey called toward the living room, making no attempt to move from the table as he absentmindedly stuck the pen behind his ear. Yev poked his head into the kitchen, seemingly checking for signs of frustration, before he meekly pushed his glasses up his nose and stepped fully into the room.   
“Come sit down here, buddy, we think we figured it out.” Ian said, pulling a chair around for Yev to sit between he and Mickey. Yev sat, once again nervously pushing his glasses up his nose, and Mickey couldn’t help but realize that the habit was the equivalent of Mickey’s own nervous face-touching. Ian laid a freckly arm across the back of Yev’s chair, leaning closer to him, and Mickey couldn’t help but grin as he leaned forward too.   
“Let’s see your worksheet, kid.” Mickey said with a yawn as Yev dug the sheet out from under the pile of paper on the table. He relinquished it confidently to his fathers, clearly not as anxious as he was when he initially returned to the table. Mickey looked over it for a few minutes, using his finger to run underneath the lines of the equations before he set the paper in front of Yev. He plucked the pen from behind his ear, handing it to his son as he shifted into a more comfortable position in his chair, enabling him to look over at the problems from behind Yev’s shoulder.  
“Okay,” he said confidently as he made eye contact with Ian over the kid’s head. “this is what you do…”

It was about another hour and a half later when Mickey, Ian, and Yev were all confident with the new math concept that they finally called it quits for the night. It was already an hour past Yev’s bedtime, but Mickey made him promise not to tell Svetlana about that. 

“Brush your teeth and head to bed, kiddo. School in the mornin’” Ian’s voice rang out from his place at the kitchen sink. Yev nodded, hastily clearing the table and stuffing his backpack before he rushed up the stairs to the bathroom. Mickey yawned, rubbing at his eyes tiredly as he stood to help Ian tidy the kitchen and living room before they headed up to bed themselves.   
They both lingered in Yev’s doorway a little too long, brooding over the fact that their little boy was now a teen learning algebra and starting high school the next year. Yev was asleep, already having decided he’s too old to get tucked in or receive bedtime hugs from his parents. That didn’t stop Ian and Mickey from taking turns tiptoeing into his room to press gentle kisses to his forehead, being extra careful not to wake him. They knew Yev liked to act like he was comfortable staying up, but he really preferred to reap the benefits of a good night’s sleep, and they were so proud of him for that. The sentimental parents quietly closed the door behind themselves, holding the knob until it was fully in place and ever so slowly releasing it. As they stood outside their son’s bedroom door, Ian’s arm raised up to pull Mickey against him. He pressed his face into the crook of his husband’s neck, taking a deep and rattling breath as he tried to settle his thoughts. Mickey had his face resting against Ian’s shoulder, and he was taking much similar brain relaxing breaths, holding onto the taller man’s waist for dear life. 

Slowly, they parted, Mickey making his way to their bedroom, Ian going to the bathroom to take his medication. Mickey was already out of his shirt and halfway out of his pants by the time Ian joined him in the bedroom. As the redhead began to strip down to his boxers to mirror his husband, he felt he had something he needed to say. He paused, shirt off, to crawl across the bed to Mickey, who was already under the covers leaning against the headboard, glasses perched on his nose, with a book of crosswords in his hand. Mickey looked up as Ian approached, surprised that he was still in pants rather than his underwear like usual.

“What’s up, man? You’re a little overdressed.” His crossword book was abandoned with his pencil in his lap when he noticed the serious look on Ian’s face.  
“I just- I wanted to say that I’m sorry for making it sound like you can’t read earlier. I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes weren’t meeting Mickeys, instead focused on his long, freckled fingers as they picked at a loose thread on their comforter.  
“Hey, Gallagher,” the black-haired man said, somewhat agitated. “Ian, look at me!” he barked when Ian still wouldn’t meet his eyes. His pale hand, tattooed with the word ‘FUCK’, reached out, his fingers meeting Ian’s chin as he lifted it to force their eyes to connect.

“I’m not mad at you, Ian. I’m not. I know what you meant; I know that you know I can read just fine. And your idea worked, it worked really well. I never thought that just hearing shit instead of bein’ forced to read it would make such a big difference, but it did.” The guilty look on Ian’s face started to dissipate, and Mickey couldn’t hide the grin spreading across his face at the sight. He used his leverage with Ian’s chin, pulling him in for a sweet, gentle kiss. When they pulled back, Ian had a huge, closed mouth smile etched into his features, and for a second, Mickey was taken back to their Kash and Grab days. He tapped his husband’s cheek affectionately, before he turned back to his crossword. 

“Besides, I might have a hard time readin’, but at least I can do basic math.” He said, in a clear attempt to rid the air of the seriousness that had surrounded them. A chuckle escaped Ian’s throat as he stood to finish taking his clothes off. The bed dipped next to Mickey as Ian climbed in, shifting around to get himself comfortable and situated, before the crossword book was torn from Mickeys hands and thrown onto the bedside table, the brunet being tugged further underneath the covers by strong arms.


End file.
